


Sound Of Settling

by coloursflyaway



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Prompt Fill, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accepting to be loved is almost impossible for Loki, Thor still does everything to make him see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound Of Settling

(1)

“You look beautiful, brother”, Thor mutters against his neck, which would be blue and scarred and marked if not for his spell, and Loki scoffs.  
“You’re a fool”, he tells Thor, and leaves.

 

(2)

There is a feast going on for a reason Loki does not care for, but the warriors and hunters are too loud for him to sleep. He could cast a spell, but instead, he walks down to the great halls, watches from the shadows, where he always felt he belonged. Half hidden from sight, just a silhouette, dark in darker.

Thor, as always, is in the middle of them all, his golden lover, brother, future king, drinking and jesting with whoever happens to be near him. It’s in his nature, and Loki doesn’t think ill of him for it, just like Thor never holds his mischief against him.  
But he watches still, watches girl after girl pass by the other’s table, trying to entice him. Thor looks at some of them, smiles at fewer and only speaks to a handful; he touches two, a Vanir with fiery hair and the other with locks as brown as the earth itself.

Loki, hidden in his shadows, smiles to himself, a cruel, vicious curl of his lips.  
He’s known, he’s always known.

 

(3)

 

That night, Thor comes to his quarters, stinking of mead and someone else’s touch; when he tries to kiss Loki, the trickster simply turns away, goes to bed without having spared his brother more than a glance. But Thor stays, lays down next to Loki, one big hand resting on Loki’s hip.  
“Goodnight, brother”, he mutters into the darkness, although he cannot know if Loki is still awake or not, and his voice sounds like thunder and rain.

 

(4)

Thor stays until the sun has long since risen, only then leaves. Again, Loki smiles, but this time, it almost feels genuine.

 

(5)

He’s never been welcome on the training grounds, and yet, Loki likes it there. There is just something about the violence which draws him there, the constant smell of blood and sweat and the smile on Thor’s lips when he has bested another of his opponents.  
When he was younger, he used to believe that his brother only because he was a prince, but the centuries have taught him better – on the battlefield, Thor is unstoppable. He’s beautiful too in his rage, every movement controlled and dangerous, every blow he deals bordering on deadly.  
They are just sparring, but Thor could lay waste upon all of them, and they all know it.

But when it comes to watching Thor, that is not what draws Loki to the training grounds, it’s a difference instead. It’s that the other touches him so softly at night that Loki sometimes thinks he is just imagining the brush of fingertips, the press of lips, and that he could kill another man with those same hands.  
It's that Thor tells him sweet things and his voice still sounds the same when he declares himself better than all his opponents.

 

(6)

Sometimes, just sometimes, when the night is dark, has even blotted out the brightest stars, Loki goes to visit his brother’s chambers. They aren’t far from his own, and by now, his feet know the way so well Loki can let his mind wander while he trusts them to take him to Thor’s quarters safely.  
He thinks of spells, of great schemes, of anything but his brother-lover’s face until he has closed the door behind him, finds Thor sharpening one of his many axes.  
The other doesn’t look up, and Loki feels anger sparks in his chest – it’s as if Thor had known he would come when he has no way of knowing. Loki is like a flame, like water, always changing, never to be caught.

“Good evening, trickster”, Thor greets, but while the title is an insult coming from most people’s lips, it’s warm and pleasant when Thor says it. “What brings you here?”  
“A whim”, Loki answers, keeps his voice cool and collected, “Nothing more.”  
“Ah.” Thor finally looks up, his eyes glistening like as blue as the sky in the warm light of the fireplace. “Will you stay, then? It is late, I know, but I would welcome your company.”  
Loki takes a few moments to consider it, looks at Thor and the axe on his lap, the warm, large bed that could be waiting for both of them.  
“I might”, he finally answers. “If you make it worth my while.”  
And Thor smiles, warm and teasing and a thousand things more. “I will, brother. I will.”

 

(7)

Loki wakes up with the sun, but doesn’t rise yet; Thor’s arm is slung over his stomach, the thunderer’s breath warm against the side of his neck. There is no reason to wake him yet.

 

(8)

There is a great wolf roaming the woods and Thor sets out to slay it, his Warriors’ Three trailing behind him. Loki has never been part of their group, so it’s no surprise that neither of them asks him to come along. But still, there is a gentle ache in his chest, like there is so often, just before it turns into anger, fuels the fire burning in his chest.

 

(9)

They come back successfully, the four of them, and no one is surprised. Loki doesn’t come to greet them, just hears the servants talk in the hallways; if his brother wants to seek him out, he can.

 

(10)

Thor doesn’t come that night, but the next morning.  
Although he doesn’t mean to, Loki turns around to face Thor, and it’s hard to breathe for just a moment, because Thor has been away for more than three weeks. His skin is darkened by the sun, but his eyes are still as blue as the skies when he greets Loki.  
“I brought you a gift”, he says, and Loki crosses his arms, doesn’t allow his treacherous heart to speed up. Thor has brought him gifts before, some useless, some beautiful beyond compare.

This time, Thor grins so brightly it almost blinds him, walks outside for a moment to come back with a coat made of dark grey fur.  
“I slew it myself”, Thor explains, voice soft and proud. “And saved the best part of its fur for you, brother.”  
Loki reaches out to take it, but then thinks better of it; Thor’s face but just for a second, until Loki turns around.

They need no words, Thor fixes the coat around his neck. The fur is impossibly soft when Loki strokes a hand over it, pulls it a little tighter around himself.  
“Thank you”, Loki says, and turns around just in time to catch the most brilliant smile stretching the thunderer’s lips.

 

 

(11)

“You’re beautiful”, Thor whispers again, this time against the cool skin of Loki’s stomach, as he trails kisses down the trickster’s body.  
“You’re a fool”, Loki replies, but his voice has lost its sharp tone, is warmer, more breathless instead. His fingers thread themselves through thick, blonde hair, try to pull his brother where he needs him. Thor only chuckles, kisses Loki’s hip.

 

(12)

The horse is tall and proud, a gift for the All-father, and yet, it reacts to every of Loki’s commands when he steers it closer to the cliff. Up here, the view is breath-taking, all of Asgard laid out in front of them, like an offering they just have to take.  
“Careful, brother”, Thor warns with a voice like summer rain and no real fear in his voice. “I know there are stories that you can turn yourself into a raven, but I never believed them.”  
Despite himself, Loki chuckles, turns around to look at the brother he thought he despised so long ago. Common people and their silly stories. “Why not?”

“Because I think I would have noticed any sign of feathers on your body”, Thor replies with a teasing smile, steers his own horse just a little closer to the edge, next to Loki’s. “I have spent enough time looking at it, after all.”  
“Have you now?”, Loki asks, an answering smirk on his lips. “And I was considering letting you look for proof again.”  
Thor’s smile grows wider, more teasing, more dangerous, and Loki feels a shiver run down his spine, when his brother answers. “In that case, I haven’t spent enough time between your legs yet, I think.”

 

(13)

It’s madness and Loki knows it, yet pushes himself to take that last step; it seems as dangerous as leaping off the cliff and trying to see if he can fly. And yet, there is a pleasant soreness between his legs, which reminds him of his brother’s gentle ministrations, his muttered praise and the warmth of his skin.  
Thor is sleeping next to him, half covered in the red fabric of his cloak, which remind Loki of blood and rage and lust, looking so peaceful Loki has to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from hurting the other. He could kill him so easily, could maim and punish, and although he knows that there were times he would have taken that chance, Loki lays back now.

He doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t look at Thor, but instead up into the night sky, counting the stars twinkling in the dark. And he takes that last step, and lets himself believe that this is real.

 

(14)

When they wake up again, it is morning once more, and Thor smiles at him with bright blue eyes. He doesn’t know it, but for Loki, the whole world has changed.

 

(15)

A fortnight later, Thor is knocking at his door in the middle of the night, his chest bare and his golden hair wild. He’s beautiful and Loki should send him away, but instead steps aside, lets him in.  
The thunderer looks surprised, maybe even confused, but walks into Loki’s chambers, doesn’t sit down, but instead turns to face him, an unreadable expression on his face. It’s strange, because even since they were boys, Loki has always been able to see right through him.  
“Hello, brother”, he greets, because Thor doesn’t speak, cocks his hips and raises and eyebrow; they might be something, but Loki has yet to take that last mask off. Maybe Thor will earn the right to see him, who always burns, always burns, never stops, but not today.

“You’ve changed”, Thor answers, and makes Loki tense for a moment, a second, a blink.  
“Don’t we all?”, he replies and yet says nothing at all; Thor shakes his head.  
“It’s different. You’ve changed _for me_.”

 

(16)

They sleep together that night, Loki looking down at his brother-lover when he slides down, takes him deep inside himself. He’s strung so tightly it feels like he will explode any given second, and yet he tries to keep his movements slow, steady, rocks his hips and makes both of them groan.  
Thor’s hands are holding onto his hips, his thumbs rubbing endless circles into his skin, and Loki reaches down to place one palm on the thunderer’s chest, trying to feel his heartbeat and match them to his.

 

(17)

The sounds Thor is making, grindstone against hardened steel, are ghastly, and Loki makes the effort to look up from his book, for a second forgetting about runes and spells older than time itself.  
“Quiet”, he orders, looking at Thor, who is sitting across the room. Loki stretches out his legs and settles back against the headboard of the other’s bed, enjoys the silence.

It only lasts for a moment or two, before Thor drags his grindstone over the blade of his axe once more, smirking at Loki when he looks up.  
Loki throws a pillow and smiles back.

 

(18)

It’s winter solstice and like always, Odin All-father has gathered what looks like all the Nine Realms in Asgard for a feast. Loki still doesn’t enjoy celebrations like that, finds them too loud and too crowded, but there is no excuse for not attending. So he joins his brother at the table, feels a large, warm hand grab his thigh under the table.  
Thor is smiling, a large jug of mead in his hand, and Loki scowls in response, keeping up appearances up as perfectly as always. The other only laughs, lets his hand slide up, up, up, until even Loki can’t help but let his lips curl just ever so slightly.

 

(19)

If it’s the same girl with fire for hair and emeralds for eyes as last time, Loki doesn’t know, but he watches her lead his brother – just his brother now, no lover any longer – outside, her hips swaying like Loki’s never could. She’s beautiful, a Vanir from a noble family, and Loki can’t blame Thor for being taken with her; he can only blame himself.  
He should have known.

 

(20)

Thor knocks at his door late at night, but Loki doesn’t open, weaves the spell tighter, closer, so there is no way for the other to come inside.

 

(21)

The next morning, Thor looks at him strangely when he passes the training grounds without stopping. There is a tight ache in Loki’s chest, but he ignores it as he strides on, just like he ignores Thor, who still looks like golden death when he brings down his training sword on a guard’s head.

 

(22)

Three weeks pass, and the sun has just risen, cold and bright, over Asgard, as the door opens. Maybe the spell’s power has waned, maybe Loki hasn’t woven it tightly enough last night, but Thor is standing in the middle of the room, his eyes still blue, but less bright.  
“Brother”, he says, and Loki flinches, can’t help himself. It's different, meeting the other’s gaze now, but he still does it, looks at Thor and slips on mask after mask after mask.

“What do you want?”, he asks, makes his voice sound cold and steady, unwavering.  
“What do _you_ want?”, Thor repeats instead of answers, takes a step closer; Loki almost takes a step back. “What do you want of me? Tell me, brother, because I must have wronged you, but as long as I do not know how, I cannot try and make it right again.”  
He speaks earnestly, but that is the way Thor has always spoken, no matter what he said, so Loki just scoffs, turns around and away from Thor.

“Leave”, he orders, “You have nothing to make right and I have nothing to say to you anymore.”  
“You lie.” There is no question in Thor’s voice, not a trace of doubt, and it is infuriating; Loki clenches his hands to fists. “I do not know why, but you do. You never believed me, but I know you, brother, I know when you speak the truth, but I know it just as well if you don’t.”  
“Leave”, Loki repeats, digs his fingernails deep into his palms. It hurts, but hardly notices.  
“I won’t.”  
“ _Leave_.”  
“No.”  
There are footsteps and Loki expects to be touched, but when he looks over his shoulder, Thor is sitting on the bed, his red tunic in stark contrast to Loki’s dark, silken sheets. He looks out of place like he doesn’t do often, but Thor doesn’t even seem to notices, his eyes focussed on Loki only.

“I can’t give you what you ask of me”, Loki answers, slowly, quietly, so that even Thor will understand. “Your nature is as unchanging as mine, and I expected you to be different still. I cannot give you forgiveness when there is nothing to forgive, because I should have known better than to think you’d prefer this to women and ale and feasts. So leave, and leave _me_ in peace.”  
It takes all strength that Loki has inside him not to scream, not to fight, but it will be better this way in the end; Thor would fight back, Thor would scream, but like this, he might do just what he was asked.

And the other really gets up, the bed creaking softly, but instead of walking away, he takes a step towards Loki, his expression soft and disbelieving.  
“You’re a fool”, he tells Loki almost fondly, sounding like he knows more than the trickster does for the first time in his life.

 

(23)

Thor’s skin is warm underneath his fingertips as Loki brushes them down the thunderer’s throat, over his jugular and down his chest. He could still kill Thor; just a single motion would be enough, a simple spell, and yet Loki lets his hand rest on top of his brother’s heart.

All the while, Thor’s fingers are playing with his hair, tugging softly at black hair, smoothing it back just a second afterwards.  
“You’re beautiful”, Thor mutters, fingers travelling from the top of Loki’s head down his spine, warm like summer rain. Loki doesn’t answer for a second, doesn’t smile.  
“I’m a fool”, he finally replies, and Thor above him chuckles, a sound like thunder and lightning, and pulls him close.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


End file.
